


Need . . .

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Genre: Very mild varied erotica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 04:51:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16695772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: A vignette of four scenes addressing the topic of need.





	Need . . .

**Author's Note:**

> Very mild, if varied, erotica. If you don't want to read such, please don't.

I.  
He was aware of all that was happening. Hell, he was enthralled with all that was happening! But, there was something missing, if he could just get his mind working enough to figure out what that was. The trace of her mouth against him, her warm hands gently tracing his outlines. What could he possibly need in addition to this??! Then he knew. But how was he supposed to let her know? Let her know that he was so greedy as to want more? How stupid was that, that he could want more than she was already offering?

Still, she knew, and he heard the slight whisper, somehow soft and harsh all at once, "ai, laddie. What do you need? Tell me." He swallowed harshly, trying to catch his breath. It was ridiculous, wasn't it? What more COULD he possible need??

But he did, and somehow gained the strength to whisper in return, that whisper more an agonized groan than anything else, "I need . . . God, 'Gaida, please!!!", the rest almost too faint to hear. And that almost whimper of a sound, naked need made audible, him not knowing if that had been from him or from her, then she moved upwards, her arms encircling him, sliding around his shoulders, down his back, over his hips. And somehow, he knew, as much as he needed this, she needed it just as much. "Ah, laddie . . ." and he knew. Knew that while he might never truly understand it, he'd not messed it up, somehow, it was just the right thing to do, the right thing to ask, at least based on the emotion clearly showing in those gold-brown eyes. The night exploded around him as hot wet heat engulfed him, and he was left bewildered at how it could be so good, so right. The night disappeared in a shower of sparks and explosions, and consciousness faded into the sweet oblivion of sleep.

II.  
He was aware of what was happening. Well, no, maybe he wasn't. That look on Goniff's face shouldn't cause this turmoil, this need within him, should it? That kiss had started it all. No, that wasn't true, but he didn't quite remember where it HAD started, maybe it had just been there, right from the beginning, when he'd found Goniff could make him crazy with his antics, yet could make him smile when nothing else, no one else could. Still, that kiss, in the merc camp, that had been important, had led to an onslaught of heated dreams of smiling blue eyes and sweet passion. That second kiss, the one in the kitchen just a few moments ago, that had led to this, to him laying on that bed, looking up at Goniff, looking into those hazy blue eyes barely visible in the dimly lit room. Was it possible for need to actually hurt? Watching that slow, ever-so-promising smile, he found the need shifting away from pain into something quite different, and he found himself answering that smile with one of his own. He felt the bed dip slightly, a warm body next to his, and he soon realized that Goniff could still make him crazy, though in ways he'd never imagined before. And he could still make him smile.

III.  
He looked at them, feeling the need within himself, knowing his first rejection of that whole concept wasn't working. His rejecting the idea of him, with Goniff, with Meghada as well; the idea . . . He'd rejected it, yet how could that work, when he saw, felt it so clearly, what was possible. Somehow, now, it all turned upside down. Perhaps it was his rejection that was the deceiver. Maybe what their eyes, their welcoming faces offered, that was what truly could be his. As he let that thought engulf him, he moved forward into their waiting arms, letting his need meld into their need til it all became one - til they became one, and he knew he was where he belonged.

IV.  
He watched them on the dance floor, Douglas amazingly confident for his youthful years, Casino looking wide-eyed, panicked, not a look the safecracker wore particularly well. Watched them, thinking about all the nights, the needing, the wanting, the waiting . . . Hell, might as well just say it, the love. Well, he wasn't gonna let some kid just step in. Maybe, just maybe, if Casino was out there on the dance floor with Douglas and hadn't decked the kid yet, maybe he still had a chance. Maybe it was time to step out, take the chance, claim what he wanted as his own. 

When Chief tapped Douglas on the shoulder, and sent the knowingly grinning young man on his way with a brisk jerk of his head, the panic on Casino's face started to lessen, as he felt his reprieve at the rescue. That is, until Chief moved to take Douglas' place, placing his hands where the younger man's hands had rested. Yep, not a good look, a look not lessened by that low whisper, "just relax, Pappy. Just move, nice and easy. I've got you. You're safe with me."

Somehow that whisper promised more than just this dance, much more, and the panic started to subside, turning into something quite different. As he started to move to the music, Casino listened to the words of that song Michael O'Donnell was singing, and saw the promise in Chief's eyes, and felt a smile come to his face. "Yeah, I know I am, Indian."


End file.
